


Day 26 -- Holiday & Day 27 -- Music

by Flamebird38



Series: 31 Days of Apex [22]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: 31 Days of Apex (Apex Legends)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25557421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamebird38/pseuds/Flamebird38
Summary: A combo of both Holiday and Music prompts!A "holiday" for Bangalore is the anniversary of when she crashed in the Outlands. Every year she sings a song she and Jackson wrote to commemorate the day. But as the years go on and life changes, it becomes harder and harder for her to remember.
Series: 31 Days of Apex [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811551
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Day 26 -- Holiday & Day 27 -- Music

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by @ToxicDogs on Twitter and her Bangalore piece for Day 24 -- Hobby! Check out the piece here: https://twitter.com/ToxicDogs/status/1286762910946078721?s=20 (also please check out the rest of her art bc she is super talented)
> 
> I also listened to two songs on repeat the entire time I was writing this. Perhaps give them a listen while reading? It will really set the mood for the story. I promise :)
> 
> 1\. Find you -- Ruelle  
> 2\. You Won't Find Me -- Narrow Skies

Year 0: 

All I see is a wreck of steel, an enlarging fire, and billowing smoke. My skin burns, my limbs ache, and my chest feels like it’s about to give out. _How the hell am I even alive?_ Using my only good arm, I drag myself across the sand, trying to get away from the Hestia wreckage.

I prop myself up on a nearby rock as best I can. I clutch at my side trying to stop one of my many gashes from bleeding. The intense desert sun is blinding, and the shriek from a nearby flyer sends a chill down my spine. I sigh, leaning back against the rock and accepting my fate.

_“Come home to me, please_

_I can’t stop you from going_

_But just come home to me, please_

_Until you do, I’ll be hoping”_

The words of the last song Jackson and I wrote together barely squeak past my lips. Slower and more heartfelt, we made it so we could sing it with our parents. Compared to our typical NSFW format, it was a nice change of pace.

_“We’ll come home to you, okay?_

_We won’t be gone for too long_

_We’ll always come home to you, okay?_

_Back to you where we belong”_

I feel my eyes start to droop. This is surely the end for me. Hopefully, Jackson is still— no, I know Jackson’s stubborn ass is still alive. _Jackie, tell Mama and Dad that I love them._

* * *

Year 2: 

“Hurry up, Williams! I don’t pay you to sit on your ass all day and mumble to yourself. Get out there and fix the leak in the hull.” The grumpy old coot that has employed me for the last few years knocks me on the back of the head. A low growl forms in my throat as my fists clench at my sides. If I didn’t need some sort of job, I would have socked him all the way to Gaea by now.

I grab a towel and my tools and head out the hatch into the endless heat and desert that was Solace. When I realized I wasn’t going to die from the Hestia crash, I went out to find work and, more importantly, find Jackson. Neither of them came easy but the work came first. The IMC didn’t teach me much about fixing ships, but they taught me enough to be useful to the Talking Raisin.

I quickly find the leak the bossman is griping about and get to work. I’m not in a particularly good mood today, so maybe sweating myself to death would do me some good. Today was the second year anniversary of crashing on this godforsaken planet. The tune from all those years ago comes easy to me like it was just written yesterday.

_“Come back to me, please_

_I can’t stop you from going_

_But just come back to me, please_

_Until you do, I’ll be hoping_

_“We’ll come back to you, okay?_

_We won’t be gone for too long_

_We’ll always come back to you, okay?_

_Back to you where we belong”_

I sing softly to myself, not sure if the words I’m singing are 100% accurate—it has been two years after all. Quite truthfully, remembering these songs is just about the only thing that gets me through this insufferable job. If only I knew anyone hiring for an actual soldier… then I could be useful while I try to find Jackson and a way home.

* * *

Year 4: 

“Heh,” I stare down at the man I have gripped by the collar, “thought you could get away with it, eh?”

“Officer, I swear it wasn’t me.” His voice comes out squeaky and frightened. 

“Wasn’t you?” My beat partner, Percy, walks up with a tablet. “Explain the security footage then.” He hits play, showing the video to our perp. The man stutters, unsure of how to defend his statement. Percy only nods, slapping a pair of cuffs on him. 

“You got this taken care of, Perc?” I call after him as he takes the perp to his car.

“Yeah, take your lunch, Rookie. See ya back on the beat in 45.” He lazily salutes me as he carefully put the man in the back. 

I chuckle as I climb into my own vehicle. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being called “Rookie.” But it is certainly better than getting hit upside the head every time I didn’t screw a bolt fast enough. When I heard Gaea had an actual police department, I couldn’t resist. It was finally something I’d actually be good at.

I look at my watch, taking note of the date. Today is the four year anniversary. Still no sign of Jackson, but I know he’s out there. I know he’s searching for me too, and it’s only a matter of time before we find each other again. 

_“Come back to me, please_

_I won’t stop you from leaving_

_But come back to me, please_

_When you do, I’ll be dreaming_

_“I’ll come back to you, okay?_

_We’ll never be gone for so long_

_I’ll always come back to you, okay?_

_Back home where I belong”_

I feel a single tear slip down my cheek. _That’s how it went, right? Pretty sure._

* * *

Year 6: 

Ever since I decided to participate in the Apex Games, the Syndicate has been working all of us to our breaking point. This season? I told them to stick where the sun doesn’t shine, and that I was taking the season off. I thought joining the games would make it easier to find Jackson and figure out how to get us home. I figured no matter where Jackson is, if he saw me on TV then he’d be racing to get back to me. But, it’s been over a year and there’s still no sign of him. 

I sigh. My apartment feels particularly lonely tonight. Today marks six years since the attack. It never gets any easier, just a tad more manageable. I pour two glasses of whiskey this time—one for me and one for whichever ghost decides to join me tonight. Grabbing my guitar, I position myself comfortably on the floor. It wasn’t easy to find an affordable instrument on Solace, but bitting the bullet for this thing was the best thing I could have ever done.

My fingers pluck away at the strings, playing the tune I always run back to on this day. 

_“Come back to me, please_

_I won’t stop you from leaving_

_But come back to me, please_

_When you do, I’ll be dreaming”_

The tune comes easy but the words do not. I pause for a moment. _What is the next set of words? Does it just repeat? I think so._

_“Come back to me, please_

_I won’t stop you from leaving_

_But come back to me, please_

_When you do, I’ll be dreaming”_

No, that doesn’t sound quite right. I shake my head, wracking my brain. I’m _not_ forgetting Jackson, I’m _not_ forgetting my family. It’s just the dust off this planet clogging my thoughts. Yeah… yeah… that’s what it is. Everyone has these kinds of days. 

* * *

Year 8: 

“Hey, Bangs, you got any plans for tonight?” Mirage asks as he comes up to me after our match once we get back to Solace City. He was always annoying as hell inside the ring, but outside, I can tell he has a big heart. At times, he reminds me a lot of Jackie. Smug yet soft, the lady-less ladies man, and genuine respect for those around him.

“That depends,” I say, almost expressionless. 

“I mean, a few of us were gonna go back to my bar for a few drinks. Didn’t know if you wanted to join us?”

“I’ll pass,” I say brushing past him. “I prefer to drink alone.” He tries calling out to me as I make my way back to my apartment, but when have I ever hesitated walking away from them? I’m not here to make friends. Never have, never will.

I make it back to my apartment just as the sun starts to set. I’m greeted by an eerie silence the moment I walk through the door. It’s now been eight years. The longest eight years of my life if I’m being honest. As usual, I pour two glasses of whiskey, grab my guitar, and make myself as comfortable as I can. My body aches from the match today, but I welcome it. It reminds me of that fateful day. 

Just like every year, my fingers start to play on their own. The tune takes me back to Gridiron, back to Mom and Dad, back to the boys… back to Jackson.

_“Come [mumble] me, please_

_[mumble] you from going_

_But just [mumble] me, please_

_Until you do, I’ll be [mumble]_

_“Come back to [mumble]_

_I can’t [mumble] from going_

_[mumble] come back to me, please_

_[mumble] do, I’ll be hoping”_

This time, some of the words escape me. I’m sure it’s just because I’m exhausted from today’s match. I’m not forgetting anything… I’m just tired.

* * *

Year 10:

It’s been ten years now. I’m tired. I’m so very tired. Will I ever get off this planet? Will I ever find Jackson? I know he’s out there, but at this point, I hope he’s settled down. I hope he’s forgotten about all those years. I hope wherever he is that he’s happy.

For the first time in years, I only pour one glass of whiskey. I settle down with my guitar like always and start playing the familiar tune. But, unlike all the other times, no words come. _Maybe if I just hum along to the chords they’ll come back to me._

After several playthroughs, I realize it’s no use. The words that I tried to hold so near have now vanished. The song from all those years ago is gone. All lost in the abyss of time. I set down my guitar. I feel a small swell of anger rise in my chest. How dare I. How dare I forget my family, my brother. Without even thinking I pick up the whiskey glass and chuck at the wall. It bursts in hundreds of tiny shards, spilling the alcohol all over my couch. 

Pulling my knees to my chest, I welcome the sobs that I pushed away for so many years. Maybe I should just stop. I should just give up on finding Jackson and a way home. This is my life now. My life is here on Solace. My life is as an Apex Legend, not a soldier. I should just forget about it all. What is the point anyways? If I’m being honest, there’s not one.

_Jackie, I love you. And if you somehow made it back home, tell Mama and Dad that I love them too._


End file.
